(In the Year nineteen-ninety-five)

"Blast it," Mundungus Fletcher growled. He'd struck his shin on something solid and heavy because it was pitch dark. Of course it was pitch dark on account of the time was three A.M, the very best time to break and enter. "Lumos," he growled at his wand, filling the cluttered and dusty attic of 12 Grimmauld place with light. "That's better," he murmured, tone heavy with satisfaction.

Glaring down he scowled reproachfully at the wooden chest that had so inconsiderately bruised his poor leg. Then his eyes narrowed as the annoyance faded from his face, quickly replaced by an expression of eager and quite honest greed. A chest was most definitely a promising find. Good things were always stowed away in chests. Just ask any pirate. Mundungus Fletcher would know, because he proudly considered himself one of the very best of land bound pirates.

Kneeling he tugged at the closed lid of the chest with excited fingers. Of course it didn't open. This was no true surprise as things were rarely that easy, especially when it came to a chest. This one had to have some good stuff in it too, as it was all heavy and ornate with fancy runes carved all over it! No one would waste such a nifty looking chest on storing rubbish. Mundungus's mind was already running wild with possibilities concerning what the chest could hold! Gold, rare scrolls, enchanted keys, a surefire fast way to kill Voldemort...If he found that last one, he'd happily hand it over to Mr. Harry Potter with a bow on, all gift wrapped like.

The chest was covered in hex locks, as any worth while chest would be, but ole Mundungus Fletcher had a hand for picking hex locks! Flicking his wand at one after the other he whistled cheerfully. Normally he was real quiet like when pilfering a place, but no one was here to hear him. No one but the old decrepit house elf who hadn't put up much of a fight after Mundungus had sprinkled him with that confusion powder he'd bought off an old hag in Knockturn alley. It worked better than he'd expected, so perhaps he'd be back for more. It would be fun to see how far sprinkling confusion would get him, especially with certain members of law enforcement. The things he could get away with if he used enough confusion powder, he thought gleefully.

Ten minutes later, with a crow of satisfaction, he finally sprang the last hex lock. His satisfaction was short lived, however. As soon as he attempted to lift the lid on the freshly unlocked treasure chest, all the bloody hex locks snapped back into place as though he'd not unlocked a single one of them! He swore for a good thirty seconds before grinding his teeth and pausing to study the hexes more closely. Two hours later, and he still could not get in, so he used a shattering spell on the chest. It was a nice chest and he almost hated to demolish it, but what was inside was probably far nicer.

There was no gold inside, and no keys neither, but there was a book. Upon opening it he discovered it to be a diary. With a deeply heartfelt curse of disappointment, he nearly hurled it into the nearest wall until his eyes took in the name on the first page. Orion Black had died during the first wizarding war under very mysterious circumstances.

Mundungus had to admit to being curious so he did. He admitted it, then settled down onto his bum on the floor to read as the cluttered attic held no chairs. Though the diary was no treasure, it may provide some interesting answers. Sticking his wand behind an ear, he tipped it forward so that it would shed light on the pages as he held the book close to his face. The first page did not have a date, only a year. Nineteen-seventy-nine. This was the year both Orion Black and his youngest son Regulus died, so Mundungus read eagerly.

I have never felt the desire to write in a diary, but today was difficult and I need to tell someone if only to arrange my thoughts. It concerns Regulus and Kreacher. I always knew they were close and I never minded that. Elves have very powerful magic, so if my son chose to befriend a being with very powerful magic, that decision could only serve him. I have always found Kreacher to be far smarter than other elves and far more perceptive. His deep loyalty as well as his magical skill, I knew, could only stand Regulus in good stead when it came to anything he wished to achieve. With loyal Kreacher at his side, ready to lend a helping spell, Regulus could go far further than perhaps even his mother and I expected.

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Indeed I knew they were close, perhaps closer than brothers, because Regulus certainly wasn't close to Sirius, thank all the Gods. This closeness I did not mind and even approved of until today. This is even difficult to write. I find myself extremely uncomfortable even writing these words, but I must or it shall consume me.

I believed their closeness to be a pure thing, but I had no idea! Last night I found them in an embrace, sharing a kiss that I must admit held a disturbing amount of passion. When I confronted them, they expressed no regret for their actions. If my wife discovers this secret, it will kill her! I shall layer this chest in wards and protections so that no one will ever see the words I write, but I cannot keep this secret completely internalized for it lays heavy on my heart. If word of this gets out, we will be ruined. Regulus was the good son, and Gods help me he still is in all other respects. Kreacher is still a good elf, but if their love is ever discovered, the Blacks shall be ostracized if we do not disown both at the very least, and this I cannot do.

I do not condone their actions but they both still hold places in my heart that I cannot simply erase. They have not betrayed me or the family. Regulus is rising high in the Dark Lord's favor, and we cannot put this at risk, so I have impressed upon the two that they must be careful if they refuse to stop. One would think this fact did not need to be impressed, but apparently their foolish passions make them careless.

I discovered them in that compromising position near dawn yesterday and have found myself quite unable to sleep since. It is my most sincere hope that sharing this burden, if only with a book, will at least serve to ease my mind some.

The page ended there, and when he turned it, Mundungus found the next also beginning with the same year, and no date. Apparently Orion wished to leave as few clues as possible, and Mundungus could hardly blame him. He braced himself for the second page, for the first had already threatened to turn his stomach. A tiny part of his mind murmured that perhaps this was what he deserved for pilfering, but he told it to sod off and redirected his attention to the diary.

Nineteen-seventy-nine

I foolishly believed that the worst thing that could happen was Regulus and Kreacher being discovered, but I was mistaken. Today Regulus and Kreacher came to me with very troubling news. It seems the Dark Lord asked to borrow a house elf at the last meeting of his Death Eaters, and Regulus proudly volunteered Kreacher. Obviously he hopes his lover will rise in the ranks at his side, and I suppose I can't argue with that logic, disturbing though it may be.

The opposite happened, however, and in the most disturbing of ways. Voldemort attempted to kill Kreacher for no apparent reason when the elf went to assist him with some secret assignment. I suspect he has somehow discovered the relationship between Kreacher and my son, but Regulus believes that the Dark Lord is hiding something beyond foul instead. A thing that he used Kreacher to hide. Regulus believes that Voldemort attempted to kill Kreacher to leave no witness.

My son is so disillusioned with his idol and so torn with guilt that he unknowingly handed his lover over to be killed that I fear he has lost his mind a little. Voldemort must be stopped, because he threatens too much with his existence. He is not what we all believed him to be. He is no second Grindelwald, here to restore proper wizarding values.

His treatment of Kreacher shows that he has no regard for life or for the feelings of his most loyal followers. If Regulus is correct, and the man has made a Horcrux, he is beyond evil and insane. Either way he must be stopped! When Regulus and Kreacher came to me with this, I formed a plan right away. With the help of his most loyal, we shall stop him. I may not agree with the choice that Regulus and Kreacher have made, but I love them both and I will stand by them. They will keep their love secret for the sake of the family name and together we will stop Voldemort. He will discover that the Blacks are not to be crossed.

"Apparently that didn't work out for ya, ole Orion...Ole Buddy, ole pal," Mundungus Fletcher muttered. Of course Orion Black was not his pal, as he'd never even met the man, but it sounded good to his ears to say it anyway. A fitting thing to say when reading someone else's diary as he saw it. Eagerly he turned the next page, hoping for more of the story, but as part of him already believed it would be, it was blank. The rest of the diary was blank, in fact. It seemed Orion had died before being able to write his final chapter down for posterity.

Tossing the book down with a grunt of exasperation, Mundungus Fletcher got to his feet and continued his ransacking of the attic. Regulus Black had defected for love of an elf! What a story, but a story that Dung knew no one would believe if he told them. Of course he technically had proof, but he could never show anyone the diary without admitting to breaking and entering here so that wasn't going to ever happen. Though he was very curious to know how the story ended, he wasn't brave enough to ask that crazy elf.